


The Awakening

by Aziraphale7



Category: Gotham (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-11-16 06:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18089213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aziraphale7/pseuds/Aziraphale7
Summary: This is just a fanfic I started to portray Penn's journey from awakening in the morgue all the way to finding Oswald and Edward.This will be updated periodically.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (( I typically write Penn (I roleplay him on tumblr) as having a bit of the comic canon as well merely because it made some things make a bit more sense in the long run. Apologies if there are some references and/or mentions that don't make sense etc

They say your life flashes before your eyes,  _ but his didn’t _ . 

 

He was frozen, stuck within a limbo between consciousness and death. The only sensation he currently could feel was the chilled touch of metal against his back. There was no pain as there had been before, not even breath.  _ Was he dead? Was this his final bit of consciousness before he slipped into whatever afterlife awaited him _ ? At the stream of thought an odd sense of  **determination** settled within him. It burned like anger, a spite that he couldn’t swallow and rid of. It seeped into the corners of his very being. It caused an eerily familiar tension within him that he had not experienced in quite a long time. It grew with each ever slow moment that passed. Time was quite an odd concept when all you could do was exist. 

 

His cold body tensed ever slightly as his spite grew, mingling with the prior determination. His breath returning was sudden. It jerked his body painfully, his lungs burning at the sudden regaining of function. Arthur wheezed, his fingers curling against the cold metal that he laid upon. His body ached as if he had been laying still for an extended period of time. It took a few lengthened, wheezing breaths before he settled into calmer labored breaths. His eyes fluttered open at last as if he had simply been submerged into a prolonged sleep. 

 

All he could see was darkness. No matter where he looked he was met with an utter blindness. Penn attempted to sit up, move, anything and yet his aching limbs simply struck metal surroundings. A sense of dread washed over him, sinking into his burning chest. He was alive but he was trapped. The cold settled around his searing limbs, causing the already existing pain to steadily spread to the rest of his exhausted body.  _ He was alive but he was going to die here _ .

 

His feet pressed against whatever fixture was directly below him. Given he was unable to stand or even sit up, he figured he was in some sort of box-like compartment. Hopefully not a  **coffin** . Fear mingled with his resentment, mixing into an ever toxic concoction within him. There wasn’t much thought to it. Penn forcibly kicked against the metal surface directly below him causing an ever loud clanging sound to pierce his ears. Pain seared through his every muscle and an exhaustion threatened to take hold. He repeated the action.  _ And again, and again and again… _ His frustration grew. 

 

Arthur could remember how Oswald had treated him. He had cared for Oswald, how foolish that seemed now.  **_Clang!_ ** Oswald had overworked him,  _ starved _ him while he and his canine feasted!  **_Clang, Clang_ ** ! Arthur had remained oh so loyal, risked his life time after time!-

 

Suddenly he was free. The metal beneath his feet had sprung away, spilling a bright light into where he lay. It was a mere metal slab he examined once his dreary eyes finally focused. A sick realization washed over him as he shakily slid off of the slab and onto the cool tile floor.  _ He was currently in the GCPD morgue _ . 


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn is lost after awaking in the GCPD morgue, and wanders about in hopes of survival. Through his lost searching, he is reunited with an old...friend. 
> 
> (Sorry in advance for this chapter being so long-)

It was a considerably hard task to navigate his way around the chilled morgue given his lack of his glasses. He supposed they had been taken off in preparation for an autopsy. The mere thought of it made him gulp, his prior fear beginning to wash over him once more. His limbs were shaky as he pulled himself to stand, attempting steady steps towards a nearby counter and ultimately failing. Arthur stumbled, his fingers clutching helplessly at the counters. His clumsy and weak movements knocked a few smaller objects off the surface. Eventually, as he carefully walked himself along the curve of the counters, he felt the familiar shape of his glasses. A heavy sigh of relief slipped past his lips as he used one hand to steady himself and one to carefully place the glasses on once more. 

  
The world around him was a little less frightening when he could see the details of his surroundings. He allowed a moment for his eyes to actually focus before attempting to figure out where to go from here. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere to go truly, given he had recently betrayed Mr. Cobblepot-- Though he was unsure how long he had been  _ dead _ for so it could be long ago now. His jaw clenched slightly at the thought, considering the possibility that he may have been dead for a considerable amount of time.  Though..he figured it couldn't have been  **too** long given he had not yet been examined nor prepared for a funeral or anything of the likes. Penn attempted to push aside the lingering thoughts, allowing his fear and anger to motivate him onwards. His emotions were quite a fickle thing. Often they remained calm, even when stronger, he was typically able to mask and control them, keep his typical meek demeanour. Perhaps it was the strike of death that had awoken such a strong response within him, or perhaps he was merely too weak within the passing moments to chose to mask his evident anger and fear that danced upon his features. He was alone now, so it hardly mattered in the end. 

Arthur took shaky steps to the door, his muscles beginning to slowly regain warmth and, in turn, strength. Perhaps once he was free from the morgue then he would steadily regain his strength. Perhaps then he could pretend that none of this happened. Though he held doubt that he could erase the memory of a bullet from his mind. He stumbled down the empty hall. He supposed that the state of the city left a majority of the GCPD out and about at all times. The ones that had stayed and attempted to resemble the city somehow. They were few but they were trying and he supposed he had to give them that. He kept a palm pressed to the wall as he walked, leading himself along the wall. He had been to the department before, many times in his life. One of which had ended in an untimely visit to  _Blackgate Prison_. He'd rather not remember that place, especially not right now. An ache spread through his chest though he was unsure what had exactly caused it given there were currently so many emotions rushing through him. The man pushed through, swiftly slipping through a back door. Though he more so nearly fell out of it. 

The outside air of Gotham could never be considered 'fresh' yet it felt relieving after being within the stuffy building. The familiar chill of the air was almost welcoming, except for the cold that lingered in his bones from his prior resting place. Arthur took a moment to consider his options, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to keep warm. His dull gaze turned towards the sky, examining the dark clouds that lingered above. It was most likely best that he, at least, find shelter. It was going to rain and he'd hate to be out and about when that happened. With another nearly silent sigh, Penn began to walk. The alleyways were familiar, as he had seen many of the city's alleyways before. Given his many side jobs while working for both Mr. Cobblepot and the Falcone family, he had seen a considerable amount of the city. Though most often he had never had the time to examine it properly. 

The storm had settled in rather quickly. Though that was quite typical of Gotham. The weather was always quite intense here, almost as if Gotham had become its own region with it's own unique weather patterns. Thunder rang out directly overhead, shaking the ground beneath his feet slightly. A prickle of panic rushed through him, eyes glancing around for some sort of shelter to sneak into. Most buildings were abandoned at this point as most people had sought out refuge in groups. Given how the criminal population had taken the opportunity to split up the city amongst themselves, the citizens most often abandoned their homes and shops to group up. It made them significantly stronger should they be approached by any criminal running about. Though it was quite sad, it certainly benefited him in this exact moment. The thunder rolled once more, reminding him of his current situation. 

Penn swiftly stumbled to the nearest building, slipping past the seemingly broken door. The place was a disaster inside, as if someone had entered simply to destroy it. Various magic kits and cards were spread about, some of the kits' contents spilled out onto the floor. He came to the conclusion that he was residing within a magic shop for the time being. The was an odd sense of security despite the current state of the shop. It was unlikely that any thugs would make their way back into this place after all. It seemed they had already thoroughly destroyed it. The man moved to sit behind the counter, perhaps the only thing still in tack. Upon feeling the odd sensation of a card sticking to his palm, he examined it, shocked to find a single tarot card pressed to his skin. It must have been lying on the floor when he sat down. He peeled it off carefully, tossing it aside with ease. As it landed, he curiously examined which card it had been, though he had little knowledge of such things.  _The Tower_. Hmm-

Arthur's thoughts were quickly cut off by the sound of a familiar voice, " _Ay, dummy_." Penn shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was just the trauma from a near death experience that was beginning to get to him right? The voice had been unheard for so long and he had assumed something had happened to his criminal companion so long ago. Though in reality it had been a mere year or so ago. The recent happenings within Gotham had made Blackgate seem like it was ages ago. " ' _m over here._ " The voice called once more, making Penn peek out from behind the counter. His light gaze examined the surroundings, searching for the specific being that he had come to know briefly before. 

Amongst the shambles of cards and trick coins laid a ventriloquist dummy. His arms were flopped carelessly atop the items while his legs were seemingly buried underneath the mess. The all to familiar and trademark scar that ran along the dummy's face confirmed Penn's suspicions. This was Scarface. " _Well don' just stand there!_ " Scarface became more antsy as the man simply stared at him from afar, " _Ya could help me!_ _I helped ya afta all!_ " The being continued, laying eerily still despite his evident anger and desperate state of mind. It was true. He certainly owed the mafioso a favour after their little escape together prior to Gotham's downfall. Arthur rose to his feet once more, though crouching slightly as he was concerned of being seen by someone through the nearby window. Despite the fact that hardly anyone would out and about during such a storm. He kneeled beside the pile of various magic items that Scarface was buried amongst, gazing down at him in shock. He had never expected to see him again. 

" _Ah, it has geen quite some time now, eh?_ " Scarface spoke once more, seemingly content now that he wasn't going to be stuck here any longer. "It..It has been awhile." Penn spoke perhaps for the first time since his awakening, stuttering ever slightly. Though he hesitated on picking Scarface up. This man was perhaps the only who had held such a suffocating control over him and all he had done. Scarface had made him  **kill** someone before. " _What's the matter? Is there somethin in my teeth?_ " Scarface mockingly asked at Arthur's hesitation. Penn shook his head slightly, "N-No Mr. Scarface. It's just--"  " _Just nothin! Now come on get me outta here!_ " Scarface interrupted the man's initial sentence, the dummy seemed to almost look at him, despite not moving. Penn nodded swiftly, swallowing hard in fear as he moved to carefully lift the other free from the debris, holding him cautiously. 

The sound of a wooden clomp sounded as Scarface seemed to open and close his jaw, attempting to make sure he still had used to it. " _Now that's much betta_." He mused, turning to look at Arthur. There was an odd familiarity at being near Scarface, as if the being brought him security. " _Dummy, I thought ya had a mans ya worked for_." Scarface spoke up, snapping Arthur free from his thoughts, " _How did ya end up way out here?_ " The mafioso continued, holding little care for the intrusion on Arthur's life. Penn inhaled a deep breath, steadily moving back to his prior sitting spot, bringing Scarface carefully along with him. The dummy seemed to examine the surroundings cautiously before looking back to the  _Ventriloquist_. "It's a long story." Penn muttered in response, "I no longer work for Mr. Cobblepot." There was a pause and the heavy rain could momentarily be heard. Scarface furrowed his brows, " _He glocked ya didn't he?_ " He seemed to scoff. There was a confidence in his words, as if he could simply tell by looking at Arthur's features. " _Well ya can tell me all agout it. We have to wait for the storm anywho_." 


	3. Journey of Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penn and Scarface search for Oswald's current location, meeting many bumps along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- This is currently unfinished but I wanted to post it bit by bit because I got way too excited about it to wait for the whole thing to be completed as this will be a longer chapter XD -

“ _Its not that hard, Gucko! Just talk!_ ”

 

Scarface had grown particularly impatient with the man before them. Penn’s light gaze was watching the other, a deep frown present upon his features. Though he was not particularly fond of the idea of back talking his newly reunited mafioso companion, the need for violence was utterly unnecessary in his mind. There were certainly other ways to go about such business, as he had done so prior in his life, yet it seemed that most within crime families handled ‘business’ all the same. A silent sigh slipped past his lips, and he averted his gaze once the man looked up to them. He now watched Scarface seething with anger. It was certainly a better sight than the pleading gaze of the other man near them. “ _If ya don’ tell us where that Penguin is then he is gonna receive a rather unpleasant surprise at ‘is doorstep!_ ” Scarface continued, his anger now even evident within the strain of his voice. Penn did not wish to contemplate what that meant, what possibilities Scarface had in mind. He was particularly old fashioned after all and even the thought of a barrel murder seemed possible with him. **Which would be particularly unfortunate, indeed**.

 

“ _Now, ‘m gonna give ya a few seconds to tell us what ya know. Otherwise.._ ” The being moved to draw a line across his particularly thin wooden neck, the sound of wood tapping together accompanying the motion. Penn’s eyes slowly turned back to the man, though he regretted doing so as he saw him practically cowering before them. “Mr. Scarface perhaps he doesn’t know anything.” Arthur spoke quietly, not wishing to overspeak and upset the other even more. Though his comment seemed to have the opposite effect of what he wanted nevertheless. Scarface turned to him, brows furrowed into an angry expression, “ _Did I ask ya to speak?_ ” He scoffed angrily, making Arthur attempt to withdraw from the other being’s closeness. He swallowed hard, not saying anything in return, simply falling silent once more.

 

“ _Much getta_ .” Scarface hummed, pulling away from Penn and turning his attention back to their current hostage. “ _While ya are at it, why not clip this fella?_ ” The inquiry made the ventriloquist tense, a look of shock crossing his features. “Y-You want me to--?” “ _Yes, I wouldn’ say it unless I meant it, Dummy!_ ” Scarface’s response was instant, already aware of Arthur’s ill feelings towards such activities. “ _He ain’ givin’ us the information we need, and if we spare ‘im he will just run to the pigs!_ ” He continued, carefully watching the now trembling man. Sure, this man was also a criminal but the act of **murder** seemed excessive. “ _Well don’ just stand there!_ ” Scarface’s angry outcries reached him despite his momentary wandering within his own thoughts. Though as Penn seemed to continue on in hesistance, the criminal seemed to take a new approach.

 

“ _Looks, this mans is keepin’ ya from what ya want. If ya don’ use him as an example everyone will walk all over ya! Don’ let people do that to ya anymore!_ ” Scarface urged, causing a flicker of anger to return to Arthur. Ever since he had worked for the Falcone family, he had been walked on. Though Carmine was particularly kind to him in the loosest sense of the term, he had still be treated as a mere asset. Oswald had made the situation considerably worse, though Arthur had set such thoughts aside given his care and loyalty to the kingpin. Well..former kingpin. Despite his unwavering loyalties until the very end, Oswald had treated him poorly and with it eventually had came his near death. Or momentary death. Penn was unsure what to classify it as. “ _Come on, come on! We don’ got all day!_ ” Scarface continued to urge Arthur to commit the felony, as if it were nothing to him.

 

An ache grew in his chest, mingling with the utter resentment and betrayal he felt towards Oswald Cobblepot. Mr. Cobblepot surely would pay his dues soon enough. Arthur’s gaze fell upon the man once more, somehow unable to hear his pleads now. He moved to draw a pistol from his waistband, glancing at Scarface. “ _Go on._ ” Was the only response from his criminal companion. Gotham had changed since the bridges blew, and so would he if he wanted to survive. It was true that this man could ultimately lead to trouble whether he knew Mr. Cobblepot or not, and in the end..this was simply for the best. No other words were spoken as a gunshot rang out. Though this time Penn hardly flinched, his gaze locked onto the body before him as Scarface’s dark laughter filled the area around them. 

 

Though Scarface seemed to settle after a few moments, Arthur’s gaze remained locked upon the body that now laid upon the floor in front of them. His pupils were thinned in a look of terror, though his gaze seemed ever distant. “ _ Dummy _ .” Scarface called, though Penn did not seem responsive in the moment. He simply continued to peer down at the dead man before him, ever faint memories flickering through his mind. The man almost didn’t hear his companion speak to him, too caught up within his own mind in the moment. A heavy, irritated sigh sounded, “ _ Dummy, snap outta it! Ya act as though ya has never seen a deads gody gefore! _ ” His voice sliced through Penn’s thoughts, shaking him free from his state of dissociation. His hand shook, his fingers pressing against the handle of the pistol that he still held. “S-Sorry, Mr. Scarface.” He sputtered a somewhat defensive edge to his tone. He swallowed hard, moving to pocket the weapon once more. 

 

All of his years growing up around what crime family’s considered ‘Business Killings’ and he still seemed to fade momentarily out of existence whenever he saw one happen. Especially when he was the one behind the trigger. He moved to clench his fist, a futile attempt to stop the incessant shaking that had taken over him. As if on cue, his mafioso companion commented on such behaviour, “ _ Shakin’ like a twig I see _ .” He spoke smoothly, apathetically, yet there was almost a light tone to his voice. One that could be mistaken for  **care** . “ _ Is there somethin’ ya aren’ tellin’ me, Dummy? _ ” He continued, making Arthur pause, taking a moment to ponder. 

 

He took a step forward, stepping carefully over the body. Given the state of the city, there was less worry of immediately ridding of such or even dealing with it at all. The police were far too occupied with other stints by the vast amount of criminals within Gotham that had not been able to escape.  (Or had not wished to) . By the time this particular criminal would be found, they would be long gone. 

 

“There is.” Arthur spoke up once more, green eyes glancing at Scarface. Though he did not immediately elaborate, the other being seemed to wait expectantly in an odd bout of patience. “ _ Well go on _ .” He hummed, one of his wooden brows quirking as he looked the other man over. “Last I saw Mr. Cobblepot,” He began, the name almost painful to speak as if it burned his tongue, “He resided within the City Hall building.” He paused, as if considering the last moments he had remembered being with the other. His lips curled into a deep frown at the memories of the little situation he had gotten himself into. No matter how well intentioned it had originally been. “Perhaps he may still be there.” He pondered aloud, walking past the doorway and glancing back once more. His eyes still seemed clouded behind cracked glasses as he examined the now practically empty room. Though the sudden force of weight smacking against the side of his head made him turn his gaze back to Scarface. “ _ Why didn’ ya tell me that in da first place? _ ” He scoffed, obviously annoyed by Penn’s miscalculation and his currently clouded mind. Despite the sudden aggressive display by the other, Arthur seemed to recoil, spitting out a few apologies to the criminal. “Apologies, M-Mr. Scarface, my mind has been..a bit clouded since I awoke.” He had already explained his particularly odd situation to Scarface, telling him what all had occurred since they had last seen each other outside on the dark shores of Blackgate. “ _ I ‘ppose thats what happens when ya almost die huh? _ ” He inquired, though his words almost seemed bitter, as if Penn had made a mistake of some sorts that had led him here. Perhaps it was true.

  
“ _ We gest go search for that lousy gird of yours _ .” Scarface prompted, not allowing further loitering nor conversation from Arthur, “ _ I know yous is scared of ‘im gut I is here now. Yous got nothin’ to worry agout _ .” The being reassured, swiveling his head to look back towards the exit, “ _ Let’s get goin’ _ .” He added, and Penn nodded silently, lost within his own thoughts once more as he pushed his way past the doorway and out of the building.


End file.
